I hate the Americans. But not nearly as much as I hate the sausage-eating Germans. Some things are very clear cut. Other are not. When I looked out the bedroom window and saw the Peugeot 206 GTI being delivered, my first thoughts were: I wished I was going to be driving a Mini or my Merc. But then I took it for a spin and it wasn't bad.

Have you ever wondered what happened to all the engineers? No, I thought not, but let's pretend you have so I can riff on pointlessly about the Victorians and how I once bought a DVD player for £850 and it's worth nothing now. Which brings me to the new Volvo S60 R. It's a bit like sleeping with the plain, boring girl when you could be shagging a page three stunna. It does the trick, but why bother?

Have you heard the one about the Sunday Times motoring columnist who turned a whole load of his dreary pieces into a book, and didn't bother to mention anywhere on the front or back cover that it was a load of recycled garbage? Well, you have now that you've forked out £20 and only noticed the disclaimer tucked several pages in. Never mind, you weren't going to read it anyway. It's a Christmas present for someone you don't really like. And they're not going to read it either. So no harm done. Which is just what I said to Lamborghini when I wrote off their Gallardo while showing off on Top Gear.

You're getting the hang of this now. You see, cars are actually really dull and there's nothing much to say about them, so the only way I can fill the space in the Sunday Times is by droning on about all my favourite prejudices - why can't you find an English plumber these days? What's the point of Cherie Blair? etc - before coming up with any creaky old link that will let me finish off with a quick 50 words about whatever car I've been given this week. AA Gill taught me this trick as we were driving home in a Porsche Carrera GT from a restaurant he was reviewing. The Porsche was OK.

How do you choose your eight favourite records? Well, don't worry about it because you're never going to be famous enough to go on Desert Island Discs. Unlike moi. It was sheer hell going into the studio to talk to Sue Lawley all about me. But it's a job and someone's got to do it. Which is just what I was thinking when I had to drive the BMW 530d SE for a week. Yet after a few days, I found I was loving it. Just like Ted Nugent, this car rocks.

I never learn. Over the years, I've had to get the Top Gear team to dig countless cars off various beaches after doing pointlessly expensive stunts, but when Richard Hammond suggested I drive a Bentley Continental GT as fast as possible across the shale and into the sea, I couldn't resist. But hey, it was only £110,000 and the BBC can always sack another three news journalists to pay for it. Which reminds me of the old joke. Why does James May get paid so much less than me and the midget? Answer: Because he's TV's answer to the Kia Rio. A bit boring.

It's often said that a car is the second most expensive purchase you will ever make after your house. That can't be true. Poofs like AA Gill and Dylan Jones spend a fortune on nancy soft furnishings and you can pick up a Fiat Panda for £6,300. I drove one once. Literally. It's like a disposable razor. You drive to where you want to go, dump it and let the police throw it away. Saves a fortune on parking.

I could go on and on about foreigners, vegetarians, pinkos and estate cars. So I will because I've still got some space to fill while I get to drive a few Jags, Bugattis and Aston Martins. But now I've filled the pages, I'm going to sign off in my 4x4. Because it expresses everything I really want to say to my readers. Screw you.

The digested read, digested: Would you buy a second-hand newspaper column from this man?